


what killed the cat?

by tazmilyvillage



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen, very light marvex propaganda.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 20:38:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18059663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazmilyvillage/pseuds/tazmilyvillage
Summary: Lexaeus and Zexion happen upon an interesting pair in Castle Oblivion.





	what killed the cat?

**Author's Note:**

> it's 2006 baby

Lexaeus liked to keep to himself.

What his fellow Nobodies did in their spare time was none of his concern, and he couldn’t even say that he was particularly interested in what they did in their work, either. He completed his missions. He drafted his reports. He minded his own business, and he was content to keep it that way.

Well... for the most part.

One of the many reasons he and Zexion got along so well was because of their like-minded nature, their tendency to work instead of play. But Zexion was still young, and unwavering dedication could only go so far; every now and then the shadow of mischief crept into his stoic persona, consciously or otherwise. Such was the case today as a gloved hand flashed from the corner of the winding hallways of Castle Oblivion to pull an unsuspecting Lexaeus aside.

“A hello would have sufficed,” Lexaeus grumbled.

Zexion held a finger to his lips-- a relatively pointless gesture, given his company-- and tilted his chin in the direction Lexaeus had been heading.

“Just take a look for a moment.”

Had it been anyone else, Lexaeus probably would have politely blown him off, but he was never one to pop Zexion’s bubble. After searching his younger counterpart’s face for a moment, he silently leaned over, peeking around the corner to sneak a glance at whatever caught Zexion’s attention.

Ahead stood the two distinct figures of Vexen and Marluxia, engaged in what looked to be a very serious and unpleasant discussion. Vexen had a few inches on most of the Organization, which was assuredly a point of pride for him; he used his height to his advantage in arguments, looking down to sneer whatever insults best suited him, and it looked like that was what he was doing to Marluxia, who drummed his fingers against the sides of his folded arms as Vexen spoke.

Zexion poked his head around the corner beneath Lexaeus and hummed.

“Vexen hasn’t started shrieking yet,” he mused, more to himself than his friend, “but it seems like they have really been going at it.”

“I thought that eavesdropping was intrusive.” This earned Lexaeus a benign glare.

“It’s not eavesdropping if you can’t hear them,” Zexion said simply. “They were supposed to have a meeting today, but I just find this curious. It’s no secret that they would loathe each other if they could… Time and time again, I seem to catch them arguing...”

Lexaeus furrowed his brow. “Self-control has never been one of Vexen’s strengths. It’s probably less an argument and more a lecture.”

Zexion opened his mouth to reply, but as he did so, Marluxia cast a lazy (or was it pointed?) glance in their direction. Quickly, perhaps a little frantically, he tugged Lexaeus away from the corner they were peeking from. Sighing, Zexion smoothed down his coat and continued matter-of-factly, as though nothing had happened.

“Sure, but even Vexen can’t lecture forever.”

Lexaeus grunted. That seemed like a grim underestimation to him. Vexen’s capacity for prattling evidently wasn’t what mattered to Zexion, though, as he began inching his way back to the corner that he ducked behind only moments ago.

“And even if he could,” he continued, “why catch Number XI outside of a meeting? I know that by nature of the Superior’s assignments they are forced to correspond semi-frequently, but Marluxia…”

“...Doesn’t seem the type to tolerate more than he has to,” Lexaeus said.

“Precisely. I just have to wonder…”

Zexion poked his head around the corner again as he murmured. Despite himself, Lexaeus soon followed suit, and he could have sworn he felt a twinge of shock (only the memory of the feeling of shock, he reminded himself) at what they beheld.

Vexen had straightened up, no longer looming over Marluxia to leer—and he was laughing. Not sneering, not cackling… laughing in the most genuine, pleased fashion that a Nobody could muster as far as Zexion and Lexaeus were concerned. But what was most alarming was that it wasn’t just him: Marluxia held a gloved hand to his mouth as he chuckled, as if to hide the corners of his lips twitching upwards. Vexen shook his head and waved a hand before continuing animatedly, and the two soon shared another laugh.

“…”

When Lexaeus and Zexion pulled back, they exchanged a blank stare and remained silent for some time. Vexen might have been easy to please as long as you knew how to stroke his ego, but… Marluxia…? Lexaeus had no trouble admitting that he knew very little about Number XI, but the impression that he got was that Marluxia was _particular_ with his company, and, well… Vexen wasn’t exactly the most popular member of the Organization, to say the least. Zexion cleared his throat.

“Well. Thank you for your time, Lexaeus,” he said in a stiff attempt to be nonchalant. “I think it is time for us to get back to work.”

Yes… Lexaeus was content to mind his own business, no doubt.

* * *

 

The next time Zexion saw Vexen, he was seated at one of his many desks in Castle Oblivion’s basement, wholly absorbed in a slew of digital documents. Zexion could practically hear the Lexaeus of his conscience chiding him for what he was about to do… but he was just so damn curious.

“Good evening, Vexen. How did your meeting with Number XI go?”

Vexen didn’t turn around, _tsk_ ing in a manner that suggested even mentioning it was a waste of time. “ _Fruitless_ as ever. You know, I’d like to know what the Superior sees in that man, because all I see is a snobbish prick with no interest in the research we’re doing here. But of course, no one wants to hear what _I_ think we should do, and… … …”

As Vexen began a particularly grueling rant, Zexion made a promise to himself to follow in Lexaeus's footsteps from now on. Curiosity simply wasn’t worth it.


End file.
